


WeEd

by Monaro



Category: Ed Edd n Eddy
Genre: Parody, stupid bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 09:53:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17506379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monaro/pseuds/Monaro
Summary: Jonny enacts his revenge upon the Ed-Boys after an unparalleled opportunity arises. Based on "we made a video" by Cow Chop.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uhj29uM7sPo&feature=youtu.be





	WeEd

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by ["we made a video"](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/451196) by The fine people at Cow Chop. 



Jonny had been pedalling home on his bike, a device he’d picked up to replace his scooter the last month. He was 15, and in the awkward position of being too old for the scooter, and too poor for a car. Mom and dad had been at odds about getting him one, and he couldn’t get around sufficiently without one to work enough jobs to buy one. And, thus were the problems inherent in the system.

He’d ziptied a milkcrate to the handlebars, and Plank bounced along with him. Plank had been his only friend for about two summers- and his best friend for as long as he could remember. Unlike the Cul-de-Sac kids, Plank thought his eccentricities charming, not annoying. Plank liked the same games as him, and was always keen to play checkers, or explore in the woods. Plank didn’t mind when he chewed with his mouth open, or skipped a shower when he camped out. Plank was as good of a friend as anyone.

Those jerks had left him high and dry. After all the years he’d tried to protect them, turn the other cheek, loved them unconditionally- they’d rather associate with malicious derelicts like The Eds. The Eds, who’d given them more bumps and bruises than all the Kanker ambushes put together. The Eds, who’d stolen their money, made fools out of them, and damn near killed them two summers ago. It made his stomach churn thinking about it, but if it were left to just him, he’d just forget it. Everyone was on their own path, who was he to judge?

But, Plank had plans. Every night when he tried to sleep, Plank was telling him about the Eds- What they were doing, how they were laughing at him. He didn’t dig them, but Plank hated them, reviled them, begged him to see to it that they rue the day they’d turned the neighborhood against them. And so, deep within the earth’s core- or, at least fifty feet down- The Gourd was born.

A police siren yelped behind him, and Jonny dumped the bike on the sidewalk. He skinned his knee up with a yelp, and Plank went sprawling on his back. He rushed to his board buddy, to see if he was alright, and cradled him in his arms, mumbling.

“Buddy, I’m sorry! It was the-”

Jonny turned his head to where the sound came from. A navy blue cruiser- a Dodge Polara- rolled by, pulling over behind an idling hatchback. Out stepped Officer Goodbar in his ugly starched blue uniform, sweating like a pig in the early September heat. He didn’t even look at Jonny, let alone offer him an apology, he was too busy.

The cop stormed up on the porch of a patchy white bungalow, where two long-haired teens in heavy-metal T-shirts were smoking what definitely wasn’t tobacco. Jonny had seen them at school before; they’d recommended a good guy to get it from, but they weren’t too bright.

The cop put his hands on his hips. “Did you two flip me off while I was drivin’ by?”  
The red-headed one snickered. “Uh-.. Yeah, yeah I did.. Is that a crime?”

“You’re gonna wish that’s all you were doing, punk. Gimme that shit.”

The other one was black-haired, and he let out a howl of indignation. “Hey! Hey, that’s medical!”

The cop huffed. “Medical- Yeah? Where’s your card?”

Silence for a moment, then a soft reply. “I.. I ain’t got it…”

“Oh, is that so? And does your buddy have a card?”

Redhead snatched the joint from his mouth and hid it behind his back. They were sitting on one of those crosshatched bench swings, and the smoke was easily visible- and easily scented. “I.. I wasn’t smokin’.”

“Get your asses up. Get up.” The cop gestured to the curb- about where Jonny was standing. They hesitated, and he gestured with his gun now, pulling back the hammer. What a screwy cop. “Yeah, that’s right! Get going!”

Jonny picked up Plank, tossed him in the bike, and ran back down the sidewalk with it. He ducked behind the back bumper of a parked pickup three car-lengths behind the cruiser, and watched the pig shake Redhead down, practically lifting him upside down and justling him until a small baggy of green came slid out of his pants, onto the ground.

There was no doubt to what it was.

Plank had an idea, and passed it to Jonny, who rebuked it in a harsh whisper. “Don’t be silly, buddy! He’ll go all Kent State on us!” But, Plank assured him otherwise; he wouldn’t let it happen.

Jonny walked his battered Schwinn onto the sidewalk once more, straddling it. For a moment, he hesitated, looking down the long sidewalk toward the cop and beyond. It was a downhill run, across Main and a left into the Cul de Sac. He had no breeze, but at least the wind wasn’t blowing against him. Plank had told him all of their hiding spots.

So, he let her roll.

The cop didn’t notice him coming; he stuck the bag out before the two teens, and continued his lecture.

“..exactly what’s wrong with America today. If you didn’t know any better, this could’ve been laced with… LSD, or fluoride, or communist literature! If I’d known any better, I’d-”

Jonny blasted by on the bike, swiping from the cop the outstretched baggy. He glanced back to see the cop hopping up and down, shouting indistinctly. He was outrunning him, but not for long.

The Cop told the kids to stay there and dove into the Polara. He’d left it running, and slammed it into gear, blasting into traffic with the siren wailing. In his absence, the two kids figured they’d hit up the convenience store, and went on with their business as if nothing happened.

Jonny banked hard left, the bike shooting across the street. The fender of a city bus passed within inches of the back tire. The cop car tried to follow, but locked up the brakes, skidding to avoid a delivery truck that had moved to block the lane. It took a full half a minute to find the driver and tell him to move, lest his brains be blown all over the sidewalk. Meanwhile, Jonny and his wooden buddy had time, time to find the Eds.

Ed and Eddy sat on the porch of Double D’s house, Eddy trying in vain to walk the dog with a crummy dimestore yo-yo.

“Gah, this thing’s no good. ‘S’probably broken.”

“Can yo-yos be broken, Eddy?”

“What’re you, Professor Springsteen?”

“Double D is in the bathroom, Eddy!”

“Right.”

Jonny bailed off his bike, leaving it to clatter and fall in the cul-de-sac, and dashed up the lawn. In one hand lay Plank, which he still seemed to carry. In the other, a large baggie of grass.

“Here,” he declared, “The cops’ll be here any minute!” Cackling, he dashed away, leaving the panicked boys to discuss a plan.

“Wh...What’re we gonna do, Eddy?!”

Eddy glanced side to side, his three little hairs standing on end. He wasn’t sure what Jonny was on about, but he could hear a police siren fast-approaching. “Uh… Hm… We’ll smoke it all! Quick, Lumpy, gimme your lighter!”

Eddy conjured up his lighter- a gas-station zippo covered in fake rhinestones-, and gave it several flicks, getting nothing but sparks.

“C’mon...c’mon… Lumpy, you got any rolling paper?”

Ed produced for him a brown lunchbag and began to shred it. “We’re gonna get blazed tonight, Eddy!”

“Great! Now, gimme the-... Wait a minute.” He compared the baggy to the miniscule scraps of paper. “... How th’heck are we gonna smoke all this?!”

“Hallo, Ed-boys!”

Both turned to find Rolf, strolling past on the sidewalk. Seizing the opportunity, Eddy flashed over, sliding in front of him with a grin.

“Hey, Rolf, how are ya?”

Rolf began to shout, telling his story in the most operatic tone he could think of. “Rolf’s papa has given him the thrashing of a lifetime! Rolf has forgotten the-”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s great. Listen, me and Ed got some weed, and we were wondering if you’d wanna have some?”

The Son of a Shepherd looked upon them as if they had suggested building a wheelbarrow out of mink. “...Weeds? Rolf does not need weeds! His family has banished undesirables from the vegetable patch forever!”

Eddy couldn’t believe this guy. “No, stretch, not garden weeds, smoking weed!”

“...Alight?”

“Yeah, now you get me!”

“Rolf does not get anything, three inches short of a ride Ed-Boy. What is this nonsense you speak of?”

Eddy tried his best for the paper, hoping to roll the farmer a badass joint out of Ed’s lunch, but Rolf was on his way. At that moment, a police cruiser came wheeling into the Cul de Sac, two of its hubcaps rolling away like bowling balls.

Eddy let out a shriek, and went dashing inside Edd’s house. “Crap!.. C’mon, Lumpy, we gotta get rid of this stuff!”

Lumpy came dashing in, slinging Eddy over his shoulder with a laugh. “Ooh! Ooh! I know how we’ll get rid of it!”

Eddy was willing to give it a shot, and shrugged.

Meanwhile, Officer Goodbar stomped up to Jonny, who was watching the Eds panic from across the street.

“You! You goddamn little communist, where’d you put it?!”

Holding his laughter, Jonny gestured to Double D’s residence. “I gave it to those guys!”

The cop gave him a snarl, and drew his revolver. He pointed it at Plank, and Jonny let out a shriek.

“Wait. Here.” Then, he went charging away, waving the .38 in the air. Some cop, huh?

Ed had filled a pan full of water, placed it on the burner of Edd’s stove, and turned on the gas. Meanwhile, Eddy watched, scowling and crossing his arms.

“What the hell’re you doing?”

Rather than lighting it with the stove, Ed flicked his buddy’s rhinestone zipper over the burner. A pillar of fire shot up, scorching the ceiling and burning Lumpy’s eyebrows.

“We’ll boil it,” he declared in a voice so decisive it sounded almost presidential. “They’ll never find it!”

Eddy grinned. “Good thinkin’ they’ll never find it there!... Hey, is that water boilin’ yet?”

“Not for another three minutes, Chief!”

“THREE MINUTES?!”

A knock on the door like thunder. “Open up, police!”

Both Eds howled and dove for the toilet. That was the easiest place, why hadn’t they thought of it in the first place? But as they reached the downstairs bathroom, they found it locked.

A high, reedy voice rose from behind the door. “Excuse me, gentlemen, but rushing me won’t make me go any faster!.. Did you take your shoes off?”

Eddy ran his fingernails over his own cheeks, groaning. Snatching the weed from Ed, he went scampering upstairs, throwing open the master bathroom door and plunging in.

His heart thumped as Eddy Skipper Scarsella found himself hanging from a beam. A sticky-note he’d never bothered to read fluttered down in front of him, landing right-side up.

“DEAREST EDDWARD,

AFTER THE RECENT LEAKS, WE HAVE DECIDED TO REMODEL THE MASTER BATHROOM YET AGAIN. HOPING TO AVOID ANOTHER UNPLEASANT INCIDENT, WE HAVE CHECKED WITH THE SCARSELLAS: YOU ARE FREE TO USE YOUR COLLEAGUE EDDY’S SHOWER.

WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE SHORT NOTICE.

-MOTHER.

“My shower?!”

Eddy lost his grip, and fell into the garage below. He landed on the hood of one of The Vincents’ cars- a beige station wagon- and left a snow angel-like dent in its sheet metal. Its alarm began to wail, and the cop was alerted to the garage, running around front and trying the big door. Finding it locked, he brought the heel of his boot to it, and left a massive footprint.

Eddy squealed, bailing out the back door and looking around. In a stroke of genius, he tossed it into a bush, and began to walk away casually.

“There you are!”

Eddy froze, as Edd came stomping out his screen door, scalding him.

“You couldn’t wait the most miniscule amount of time to relieve myself? Are you that eager to get to the beach?.. You and Ed have been storming all over my house, tracking mud… somehow, you managed to set father’s car alarm off... And, furthermore, what is the atomic travesty that has unfolded in my kitchen!”

Eddy gestured wildly to nothing in particular. “Well, y’see, it’s-.. I… Jonny…”

Edd shushed him with a hoarse whisper, and folded his arms. “Your behavior is reprehensible. What could have happened if your little culinary masterpiece caused a fire? After all, you left it unattended… What if were were to leave with it on the stove?”

With a cacophony of splintering wood, the gate from the alley flew open and off its hinges. In stomped a figure in blue denim trousers, a blue cap, and a white, pit-stained dress shirt. A badge glinted in the mid-day light, a black tie loosened comically around his collar. With one mighty hand, he pointed square at Eddy.

“YOU… I’ve been… lookin’... everywhere for you…” 

Double D froze, and began to stammer. “Er-uh.. Why… hello, officer-”

“Shuddup.”

Sockhead gave a squeak, and nodded. “Y-yessir, my deepest apologies, sir..Sorry.. Pardon me..”

The towering cop came plodding up the lawn, hand on his gun, a look of impending judgement to be passed on Eddy.

“Alright, punk.. Here’s what went on t’day… First ‘f all, th’DA called me this morning, and says I’m under suspicion… Second of all, some little… pinko kids flip me off on patrol… I find they’re smokin’ dope!.. Then, y’r little skinhead buddy steals their stash, an’ hauls ass down here!... He says he gives it to you… Now, what th’Hell’s goin’ on here?!”

Eddy uttered a little titter of laughter. “Heheh, well, y’see, Officer, Jonny ain’t right in the head. Takes things from all sorts ‘a people. Lies a lot too! I bet he’s off, smokin’ it now! Fooled you good, he did! Can I go no-”

“FOOLED?!” The cop roared in indignation, and produced his revolver. “Nobody fools me, kiddo! You think you and your buddies can screw with me? Not a chance!” He pointed it on Eddy, and pulled the hammer back. Eddy dropped to his knees and began to pray to the Virgin Mary for a miracle.

“Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t blow y’r brains out… I know how it is with you kids… Y’re all laughin’ at the law, sittin’ around smokin’, drinkin’ stolen beer, goin’ t’friggin’ petting parties.… You’re all communists, I tell ya! Now, get ready t’meet God, ‘cause I got a-”

“Tom-Lincoln-Niner, come in…”  
A radio on his chest squawked, distracting him. He held the gun in one hand, now trembling, his eyes darting from the walkie-talkie to Eddy, before grabbing the walkie, and muttering into it.

“Tom-Lincoln-Niner, go ahead.”

A nasal female voice rattled more codes back to him. “Tom-Lincoln Niner, respond code two to suspected four-eighty-eight at Supa Save convencience store, Jayhawk and Rethink.”

Eyeing the two kids, the cop nodded to himself. “Ten-four, on my way.” He backed away slowly, waving the gun between Eddy and Double D as he went.

“You win this time, pinkos… You got lucky… Now.. you keep your nose clean! Y’hear…?” And with that, Goodbar broke into a sprint down the lane, leaving the Eds and Jonny in the midst of a confoundingly-weird scenario never to be repeated. Business as usual on the Cul-De-Sac!

Double D wailed in dismay. “Can anyone tell me WHAT IS HAPPENING?!”

Ed leaned from the kitchen window, guffawing. “Hey guys, water’s boiling!”


End file.
